Revelation cw Apocalypse
by Rain Sky
Summary: The Wizard Heir by Cinda Williams Chima  vignette  Leander Hastings feels betrayed because his beloved kept a secret from him for nearly twenty years while he worried, so he visits a friend to get answers.


A/N: This is from a book called "The Wizard Heir" by Cinda Williams Chima, the companion novel to "The Warrior Heir". This is one of those books where I thought it was pretty complete without gaping holes that needed to be filled in by fanfics. Suddenly, though, I did find a small hole that could be fixed; that's why I wrote this piece. I guess this is a vignette in a way. It's not as symbolic with imagery as one might expect. This is a scene that could be inserted right after Leander and Linda's conversation in chapter sixteen. There is an OC named Tricia, and really there are no pairings. I do not own "The Wizard Heir", and I am not Cinda Williams Chima.

* * *

It was extremely hot outside; despite the storm that had just come unexpectedly and passed, it was still the end of a bright summer. The sky was azure, with only a few wisps of thin clouds to be seen – and one still had to squint to find them.

The new boy – the wizard – Joseph McCauley had disappeared, along with an employee of a hotel. Neither had been permanent residents of Trinity, yet both had been taken away in a mystical storm that defied all logic. Joseph's disappearance weighed heavily upon his guardian, Linda Downey, as well as on several of the magically-gifted citizens of Trinity. One such magically-gifted citizen had never met the boy, but she had seen him before, and felt burdened by his disappearance.

She was entering the middle-ages – she was thirty-three to be exact. Thankfully, the magical Weir aged slightly slower than normal humans did; she figured she had two more years to find a soul mate and get married. Her bouncy shoulder-length chestnut hair had begun to lose some sheen and luster with age, and her once flawless white skin showed wear.

This woman lived in a fairly nice house; only one-level, but it was well-designed to suit small evening parties, and the property was beautifully landscaped. She had been relaxing in a spacious room with towering archways for a ceiling with a margarita, trying to shake off the heat. Frequently, she did have nothing to do except experiment with new magical concepts which often failed. Even with the worry of the missing boy, she found time to be idle.

Around dusk, several sturdy knocks came onto her cherry wood door.

At once, her eyelids lowered in annoyance; she was not looking forward to her sudden visitor. It was obvious who it would be; only a few people would ever knock on her door when she had installed an expensive door bell. It was a visit and confrontation she had been dreading for nearly seventeen years now.

Sighing breathily, the woman pushed herself up, a graceful train of silk trailing the floor. Her gown was not intended for the season; while light, it did not bring out the liveliness like a sundress would. It made her elegant, but also worn and tired, as if she would suddenly just drop into a long sleep.

She opened the door. Her visitor was tall and well-built with sharp features; his eyes were orbs of jade. His hair was black as the night, and he looked not a day over twenty-eight, despite the fact that he was truly entering his late-thirties. Even though he was clearly distressed, there were still reckless impulses of youth pulsating through his eyes. He was every bit like an untamed lion cub, ready to defy any authority as if he had been oppressed all his life.

"Tricia Drake," he said simply. It was no more than acknowledgment, which seemed out of place, as he had taken the initiative to knock on her door.

"Leander Hastings," Tricia replied in the same manner. She let him in without further exchange of words.

When they were settled in the "living room" – it was more of a museum, with artifacts on display, the layout planned by an expert interior designer – neither spoke for a moment. The strapping man picked at the mousse cake Tricia had set on the glass coffee table wordlessly. Tricia knew the question already – and she knew it was going to be a long evening.

At long last, Leander spoke up. "You knew."

"Yes, I did," Tricia remarked in a monotone voice. "I still do, at that."

"Why did you keep it from me?" Traces of pain flitted in his words.

"I have no idea what you are rambling about. You forget that I am a wizard, not a mind-reader."

"You are her best friend," Leander impatiently coaxed. "You had to have known."

The two glared at each other for a moment.

"Have you not heard it from the Dragon already?" Tricia inquired with a raised brow. She knew she was being annoying, but she did not feel she deserved to be involved with her friends' personal affairs.

"I have. Her answer was unsatisfactory."

_There is no doubt about that._ Tricia thought dryly. Then she turned her face away. "I am positive she gave you the Dragon's answer, but I can not see why you do not know her other perspective – her perspective as Linda Downey."

"It could be because I am _not_ Linda Downey."

"Linda was a strong person and always willing to give it her all to support her cause for the lower guilds," Tricia reminded sullenly. "That was her Dragon side. There was another side – her perspective as a pregnant seventeen year old."

Leander frowned slightly, wondering what that had to do with anything.

"She was afraid," Tricia emphasized the last word. "She was unwed, young, and with child. She was Rebecca Downey Swift's seventeen-year-old baby sister. Her family had been religious, Hastings! She was not about to go and tell the world that she was sleeping around, much less pregnant. Magically gifted or not, Rebecca would have _killed_ anyone who dared touch her baby sister! Besides, Jack was only about five at the time; Linda did not want to trouble Rebecca at all."

"Then why did Linda not tell _me_?" Leander pressed. "_I_ am the baby's father. Why?"

"I guess you really were not the family man type of person," Tricia mumbled.

"What?"

"Linda loved you," Tricia whispered, barely audible. She had waited seventeen years, and found that courage failed her now. "Even if there was no underground rebellion to lead, she was young. What if you were the type to just sleep around every night? What if you turned her away if she told you? That would have _crushed_ her, Hastings. You are a good person, but your rash, intrepid, and bold style was suggesting all that. Linda chose ignorance; she never wanted to hear that from you."

The warrior was wide-eyed and almost shocked speechless. "Linda didn't tell me, because she didn't think I would stay with her…" He repeated it to himself as if he were asking himself if it could be true.

"As the Dragon, she was already out of town a lot," Tricia explained with a hint of exhaustion, but it also seemed that she was lighter without that heavy burden she had held for seventeen years from one man. "All she had to do was go out of town before she was visibly with child, and Rebecca and the townsfolk would never suspect a thing. After she had Joseph, she remained ever traveling to maintain the image; the seven months she had been gone never appeared unusual."

"She was still here the first two months, was she?"

"There were no visible signs, then," Tricia remarked. "That was also how I found out. On the night before she left, Linda came over casually. It went well – we talked about anything and everything, I showed her a new eye-shadow and spell, she spoke of friends she had met traveling. It was a normal girls' night. Then, not long before she was ready to leave, Linda felt sick and threw up. Her hand instantly went to her abdomen, and I knew. Linda made me promise never to tell. I promised under the condition that she would tell me who the father was."

"And I never knew," Leander steadied his hands, which had begun to shake.

"Sorry, Lee," Tricia gave an agonizing smile. "That was the general idea." Then, she straightened herself out, and in a more commanding tone, she asked, "What happened, Hastings? Linda would never have told you unless something important happened."

"Leicester has Joseph," Hastings explained. "He wants to strike a bargain with me. I don't doubt that he wants me in his place."

Tricia looked at the warrior questioningly. "Why would he contact you? If he wanted you, he could have waited for the council to meet."

"We've allowed Leicester to believe I am the Dragon."

"I see," Tricia said slowly. "This bodes ill, Hastings. The meeting is going to be a trap. Leicester and D'Orsay will use whatever means to have their way. You will need a lot more than just a few representatives of the guilds to stand a chance."

"I know, Tricia, I know." Leander heaved a sigh. "We have to try, though, and we don't have time to arrangement reinforcements. All we can do right now is to try to get the innocents out of the way."

'Innocents' clearly referred to Joseph. Tricia bit her lip, frustrated that she could not, at the moment, come up with a single viable plan of attack that would save her friends' lives. "If you see the others, tell them to come back alive – all of you." Tricia knew that she was not a representative, and that she had no way of going to the rigged inter-guild meeting both undetected and as a useful spell-caster. She also knew that she would have been a liability with her lack of power.

"I'll pass it on," Leander assured the woman. "Well, it's getting late. I need to go meet Leicester." He grimaced as he got up and walked to the door. Tricia followed closely.

At the door, Leander stopped and turned to face Tricia. "Don't worry too much. The results of the meeting should be obvious as soon as there are any."

"That is very reassuring."

Tricia waited at the threshold and watched Leander walk away, almost certain that it would be the last time she saw him – and perhaps some of her friends.

* * *

A/N: I would ask for reviews of not my work, but my way of thinking. What do you think of the possibility that Linda would have been afraid in the original story by Cinda Williams Chima? 


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